Consequences
by short dark and stubborn
Summary: In which Alan disobeys orders and gets his (bleep) handed to him on a plate. Based on the original series.


The weather was treacherous. The rain lashed down in sheets, making it impossible to see. The wind howled past the open belly of Thunderbird Two as Gordon and Alan waited for instructions from Virgil. Fifty feet below them, three men stood on the roof of the partially collapsed warehouse, waiting eagerly to be airlifted to safety.

"Come on, Virgil, tell us what to do," muttered Gordon behind the visor of his helmet.

"We should go down anyway," said Alan, looking over at the winch mechanism. "We can operate the winch ourselves."

"We can't do that, Alan," Gordon retorted. As if on cue, Thunderbird Two bucked up and down like a galleon on the high seas.

"We can," shot back Alan. "When lives are in danger we can even override Dad's orders."

Gordon's amber eyes shot wide open. "Are you crazy?" he stammered. "We can't do any such thing! There's a chain of command for a reason. So that none of us do anything foolish!"

His blond younger brother's face was partially concealed by his visor, but there was no mistaking the stubborn glint in his turquoise eyes.

"Listen, Alan. Don't even think about it. Stay put and wait for orders."

Alan looked up through the ceiling of the pod, as if he could actually look into the cockpit of Two and see Virgil. "What the heck is keeping him?"

Virgil's voice came over their comms devices at last. "You two okay down there? This wind sure is crazy, huh. I'm having a hard time keeping her steady."

"Virgil! What kept you?" Alan barked, rudely. "There are three men down there who need our help! That building isn't gonna last much longer with a river of mud washing its foundations away!"

There was a momentary pause, but Gordon knew it was filled with Virgil's quiet anger.

"I know that, Alan," their older brother replied, calmly. "But there's no need to endanger three more by rushing in blindly. In case you hadn't realized it, we're actually in the middle of a typhoon."

"Typhoon shmyphoon," Alan grunted. "I'm not waiting a minute longer. You guys can sit around talking about how we're going to get those fellows off the roof, but I'm gonna get off my ass and do it." As he spoke, he buckled himself into his winch harness, bumping awkwardly against the side of Two as the huge craft continued to roll and yaw in the wind. Gordon shook his head at the sight of his maverick brother struggling against Two and the elements in his haste to get the job done.

"You're crazy, Alan. I won't let you do it."

"It's not up to you."

"It's up to me if you've taken leave of your senses and aren't thinking straight."

Alan ignored Gordon. He prepared to throw the switch that put the winch mechanism into operation. Gordon tried to launch himself at Alan but another roll from Two sent him tumbling the other way. Landing on his back, he pushed himself onto his elbows just in time to see Alan disappear out of the hatch on the end of the winch cable. He banged his fist down hard on the steel floor of Two, then scrambled to his feet and approached the open hatch.

"Alan's gone out of the hatch!" he screamed against the howling wind.

"That insane idiot!" growled Virgil.

"Oh God," murmured Gordon. "I'd winch him straight back up, but he's almost reached the men... now I don't know what to do."

"Use your judgment," Virgil said. "It's all I can do to keep this baby steady." Thunderbird Two dipped down the crest of an air current. "Steady, baby...steady..."

Gordon gripped the side of the open hatch, thankful for his sturdy harness that kept him from falling to his death. He wasn't a firm believer in God, but right now he prayed that Alan and the men would all be okay. Through the blinding rain he could just about make out the blur on the end of the winch that was Alan, and a collective blur further down that was three men crowding together, desperate to be rescued.

Thunderbird Two suddenly dropped like a stone. The movement was so unexpected that Gordon's stomach flew into his mouth as he wheeled around and almost fell out of the hatch.

"Dammit, Virgil!"

"That was out of my control!" yelled Virgil, as cockpit warning sounds beeped and jangled in their ears. "This weather is insane! Check Alan! For godsakes, check Alan!"

Gordon made his way over to the winch mechanism and threw it into reverse. "I hope to God I'm doing the right thing," he said quietly.

The humming winch began to pull its load back towards the belly of Two. After a few minutes that stretched into hours, Alan, along with three men clinging to his seemingly unconscious body, reached the hatch. It took all of Gordon's strength, and then some, to haul them all into the rescue craft. The three men pulled themselves over the lip and sprawled, gasping and coughing, across the metal floor. Once everyone was safely in, Gordon alerted Virgil and the hatch rumbled shut.

With the howling wind and rain shut out, there was now just the sound of three grown men sobbing like children. There were no sounds from Alan. His body was completely limp and there was a jagged crack down the side of his helmet. Gordon huddled over his brother, feeling for a pulse. He breathed out in relief when he found one- weak but steady.

"Let's get the heck out of here, Virgil," Gordon muttered. "I think we've done and seen enough for today."

* * *

There was a deathly silence over Tracy Villa. Gordon, Scott, Tin-Tin and Virgil found themselves almost tiptoeing around, as if a bomb were about to explode under their feet at any moment. And then suddenly it did.

 _"You idiot!"_

Their father's voice boomed down the hallway from his office like the soundwave from an explosion, almost knocking them off their feet.

"Hoo, boy. Dad's pissed," said Scott, unnecessarily.

 _"What in the name of Jehosophat possessed you, boy? Don't you know you're supposed to wait for orders?"_

There was a long silence - although they guessed that Alan was probably doing some serious wheedling and blame-shifting that they couldn't hear.

"Poor Alan," Tin-Tin said, nervously. "He thought he was doing the right thing at the time."

"Disobeying orders is never the right thing, Tin-Tin," said Scott, sternly.

Tin-Tin looked down and away. Sometimes Scott could be a little intimidating, even though nine and a half times out of ten he was usually correct.

"Well, technically we hadn't been given any orders yet," said Gordon, gallantly.

"The weather was so rough I was having a hard time keeping Thunderbird Two steady," Virgil chipped in.

"You could say that Alan disobeyed a non-order," Gordon smiled.

Scott's eyebrows drew together in a cynical frown. "Not waiting for orders just so that you can disobey them when they come is never the right thing either."

Gordon opened his mouth to add something else, but Virgil shook his head. "Don't argue with him," he said dryly. "It's pointless."

Their father's voice rumbled into the lounge. "Virgil, Gordon, in my office, please."

Gordon's face visibly paled. Virgil got up from the couch and held out his hand to pat Gordon's shoulder as the younger man went past him. Scott and Tin-Tin watched them walk down the hall with their backs straight and heads up, like two soldiers marching bravely towards the firing squad.

"I wish I'd been there with Gordon to stop that impulsive idiot from jumping out," Scott murmured.

Tin-Tin fluttered her eyelashes. "You know that nothing stops Alan when he puts his mind to something."

Scott raised his right hand, clenching it into a fist. "This would have stopped him."

Shocked (and a little awed) into silence, Tin-Tin could only stare at Scott and marvel at the differences between this tall, dark haired ex-fighter pilot and his precocious, stubborn blond brother who was nine years younger but sometimes behaved as if he were the only one of the family with any sense and brains.

* * *

"But _I saved those men_ , father! If it had been left up to Virgil, we would have waited until the whole building was nothing but a pile of rubble and by then it would have been too late."

Virgil stared aghast at his youngest brother, trying not to look at the swathe of bandages wrapped around his head. "Way to throw me under the bus!" he snapped.

"I'm not _blaming_ you, Virgil. I'm just saying."

"You're just saying I would have waited until those guys were dead before I did anything! Alan, we were in a typhoon! Thunderbird Two was bucking like a rodeo steer!"

Jeff sat behind his desk while his three sons stood in an orderly line in front of him. His blue eyes and keen brain made a mental note of body language and facial expressions. So far, in the game of Truth, Lies and Consequences, Alan was losing. Jeff cast his gaze over Alan's bandages. His concussion had thankfully been mild- all medical checks were done and dusted. But if the boy had thought his injury was enough to get him off the hook, he was very much mistaken.

"Virgil was doing his best, Alan. You can't expect miracles."

"Yes I can!" blurted Alan.

"Well then, maybe I should have taken my magic wand from under my wizard's hat and quelled the storm into submission so you could fly down and rescue them like Superman?" Virgil's voice was tight.

Jeff looked over at Gordon. For once, his fourth son was as silent as a stone. "Don't you have anything to say?" he asked, calmly.

"No, sir," Gordon uttered. "I mean, I'm waiting for instructions, sir."

Jeff swiveled back towards Alan. "You hear that, boy? He's waiting for instructions. Just like you should have done."

"But _I saved those men_ ," Alan repeated, sullenly. "I used my _initiative_ and I _saved_ them!"

Jeff narrowed his eyes at the sneering tone that had crept into his youngest son's voice. "Having three panicked men clamber onto your unconscious body is _not_ the same as saving them. Their own desperation saved them. Your 'initiative', which I prefer to call 'idiocy', is what almost got you killed." Alan's chin sank onto his chest as his father continued in the same murderously low tone. "You know, Alan- you may have survived being swung into the side of a building like a wrecking ball, but you're lucky I didn't kill you myself after I read the full report."

Both Virgil and Gordon winced as if their father had said the same to them.

"So what's going to happen to me, father?" asked Alan, his eyes darting about like a cornered rat.

"You're grounded," Jeff said, bluntly. "Grounded until further notice. And that could be a _very_ long time."

"But- " Alan couldn't believe his own ears. "But I'm an integral part of the team! You can't just ground me!"

"I can and I am," said Jeff. "You're not an integral part of the team when you go around defying orders and endangering lives. Why, that pot plant over there could do better!"

Alan glared angrily at the majestic rubber plant in the corner as if trying to disintegrate it with his eyes. "So now we're a man down? That's just great. I don't see how that's going to solve anything, _or_ save lives."

Jeff smiled at all three of his open-mouthed boys and shook his head. "Don't worry, Alan, I would never leave us a man down. In fact, I would say that the replacement I have in mind for you is more of a man than you've proven yourself to be, at least on this mission." He folded his hands behind his head and grinned at them before indicating that they were all dismissed.

Two days later, John's portrait flashed and another rescue mission was launched. Scott sprang from his chair and raced for the wall fixtures that spun him around into the bay of Thunderbird One. Virgil bounded over to the vertical painting of the rocket that was the entryway to Thunderbird Two's chute. And Alan watched with a miserable pout as Gordon and Tin-Tin dashed out of the lounge and made their way to the elevator that would deliver them into Thunderbird Two's cockpit.

" _Tin-Tin_ ," the blond boy muttered. "You really think Tin-Tin could do a better job than I could."

Jeff looked pointedly at another one of the potted plants that decorated Tracy Villa.

Alan knew there was nothing he could say that would convince his father to send him on the mission. He hunched his shoulders and glared out of the window as the swimming pool slid back and Thunderbird One roared up from the bowels of Tracy Island. Moments later, he saw a green speck in the sky that was Thunderbird Two following in Scott's wake. "See you, guys," he mumbled forlornly. "Or should that be, see you guys, _and girl_."

Alan moped and sulked his way around the lounge until Jeff couldn't bear it any longer.

"You look very miserable, son. How about I give you a job to do?"

Alan brightened, thinking his manipulative mooching had convinced his father of how much he was needed on this mission.

"Do you want me to take Ladybird and rendezvous with them at the Danger Zone?" he asked, eagerly.

"No," smiled Jeff. "I want you to go into the kitchen like Tin-Tin used to do, and make me a pot of coffee."

 **Fin**


End file.
